Shattered Day
by Stephy2
Summary: Cynthia Cullen always knew her family was different. After an accident, she is sent to Forks to find out her connection to a two decade old murder, and what it has to do with her parents: Bella and Edward Cullen.
1. Prologue

**Shattered Day  
><strong>The "Unofficial" Sequel to Breaking Dawn

_Cynthia Cullen always knew her life was different. Sheltered by her family and always on the move, she never realized how different she was until she had a chance to really see other families. Curious as to the past of her family, she discovers a link to Forks, Washington. After her mother, who has been ill all of Cynthia's life, attacks her, Cynthia is sent to Forks to learn the truth of who she really is and why her parents cannot ever return to Forks. Who is Cynthia Cullen, and what is the connection between Bella and Edward, and a twenty-year-old murder mystery?_

Prologue

"God, Bella, what have you done?"

Daddy's words rang through the night. It was a cry I heard often as a child, either directed at Mom or mumbled softly when he thought no one was around. I cringed, curling up under the covers of my makeshift bed. It was another night in a motel room, another night on the road. Daddy thought I was asleep, but I could never sleep when he and Mom fought.

"I couldn't help myself Edward. Look, she's so tiny. Renesmee was that tiny once. Can't I keep her?"

"No! Bella, you can't keep doing this. I told you that the last time." I heard Daddy's footsteps coming over to the bed and I held my breath. Please, I silently begged, please think I'm asleep. He stood over me for a moment, and I could picture him, slouching at the shoulders as if he carried a great weight and the sadness in his brown eyes. What was it that made Daddy so sad?

Finally, he walked back across the motel room. "Give it to me, Bella. We need to bury it."

"No! She's my baby! You can't!"

"Bella! It's already dead. Look at it." There was a brief struggle and I could hear Mom crying. Daddy said, "Stay with Cynthia. When I get back, we'll have to pack up and go."

Mom sobbed the whole time Daddy was away. I peaked out from the covers, and saw a nightmare. Mom was covered in blood. It drenched her pale skin and made her dark hair sticky. She kept crying for her baby, for her little 'Nessie'.

When Daddy returned, he shook me and got me up. "Come on, Cynthia, we're leaving." I knew how to pack my clothes by then. Only five and I could pack as quickly as Daddy. Mom was no help, moving from crying to slowly rocking back and forth, humming a lullaby.

"Daddy, will Mommy be okay?"

"Of course, baby. Mommy is just a little sick right now. We're going to move and she'll get better."

Daddy always made that promise. Each time we moved, it was to make Mom better. It never did. It didn't always end the same, but something would compel Daddy to move us. I had to be homeschooled, working off computers in libraries to hand in my assignments, since we might move three or more times a year. Nothing got Daddy to move us faster than when Mom started talking about wanting a baby.

We finally stopped moving when I was sixteen. Our newest home was a rather modest apartment in New York City with fading wallpaper and cracks in the ceiling. I got to graduate from an actual high school. Daddy watched me get my diploma, Mom was too sick.

Standing there, watching the people I graduated with though never connected to, I realized how different I was. My mother was slender and graceful with pale skin, long dark hair, dark circles under her eyes and a vacant expression on her face. My father was muscular with pale skin, dark blonde hair, sad brown eyes, and always slouched like he bore the weight of the world on his back. I should have looked like them, but it was not obvious to me that I didn't. I had naturally tan skin and long silver-blonde hair, green eyes and full lips. Nothing about me looked like my parents. Not to mention, I realized my parents looked like they were my age. My father could easily pass as my brother or friend.

It was at that point in my life I decided to find out the truth.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

The beauty of New York in the winter was only superficial. The way the early December snow fell gently on the sidewalks and ice glittered in the sparse trees all seemed very picturesque until I got to the subway. And then the reality of mud and slush set in, oversized coats that made the already cramped train car packed. The short ride from City College on the Red Line to my home in Harlem was a hot nightmare. By the time I exited the subway and started the five block hike to my apartment, I was sweating. Of course, the cold winter air caused it to freeze against my skin.

Still, this was home. My family had done nothing but travel all of my life, so I was pleased to have someplace to settle down. We had lived in New York the longest, almost four whole years. My father got himself a job as a ghostwriter, and his books sold well. He never got the credit, but that was a secret between himself and the person who contracted him to write these really lame vampire romance novels. So far, he had nearly seven under his belt, and each one was as hopeless as the last.

My mom didn't work. She was too sick to. It wasn't an illness of the body, but of the mind. Most days, she wandered around the apartment, talking to people who weren't there. She never got my name right, always calling me Lauren and telling me that I'm just jealous of her. Sometimes, she'd have a break down and cry for her baby and talk about there being so much blood. Daddy got her a baby doll for those times, and it seems to calm her down. Sometimes the baby is called Nessie, and sometimes she uses my name, Cynthia.

The walk up the stairs to my apartment is filled with noise. The sounds of babies crying and people yelling at each other. The arguments fill the air, some in English, but most in other languages. I can't speak any of it, but I have learned how to recognize the bad words. I also had the wisdom to never ask Daddy what they meant.

Before I opened the door, I knew Mom had been cooking. I could smell the acrid scent of burnt food in the hall. Mom must have been in one of her good moods for Daddy to allow her in the kitchen. I could tell when I walked in that he regretted it. Mom was oblivious to all of us, humming as she stirred a pot that was smoking. Whatever had been in it was now permanently charred to the bottom.

"Bella, sweetie, I think it's done," Daddy said. He stayed in the small dinning area, almost afraid to enter the five foot by three foot kitchen area.

"It'll be done in a minute," Mom said dreamily. "Did I ever tell you I used to cook all the time for Charlie. He never could. That's why he needed me to move in with him. Renee was always telling me that. Charlie, she'd say, didn't have the brains God gave a walnut. I don't know how he managed to survive until I got there. Probably lived off doughnuts and take out."

"You were a good daughter," Daddy said. "I'm sure Charlie is very grateful for everything you did for him."

Still stirring the sludge, Mom said, "He didn't really like you, Edward. Charlie thought I should have been with Jacob. He didn't understand our love." Mom looked over at Daddy and I saw a clarity in her eyes for the first time in years. "You do love me, right Edward? After all these years?"

Daddy walked over to her and pulled her in his arms. "Of course. Bella, I will always love you." He quickly turned off the stove. By the time Mom took a step back, she was her old confused self again.

"I should go check on Cynthia," she said. "She's not like Nessie. No, that was a good daughter. Never cried. Not my Renesmee. Cynthia cries all the time." She wandered off to her room and I felt tears sting my eyes.

"She didn't mean that," Daddy said. "You are the best daughter anyone can ask for."

"Who's Renesmee?"

Daddy looked down and shook his head. "Not now," he said. No, pleaded. He pleaded with me. "Not now."

He turned away and started cleaning up Mom's mess. I could hear her in her room, talking to her doll. Something about how pretty Nessie was on her wedding day. I went to my room and locked my door. Putting on my earbuds and turning my ipod up as loudly as I could stand it, I got to work on my homework. I was just taking my core classes now, having not decided what degree I wanted to obtain.

What felt like minutes, but was really several hours later, I finished and packed up. My stomach protested, reminding me that I had not eaten since lunch. I paused at my door, listening to see if my parents were still up. Hearing nothing, I tiptoed to the kitchen and made myself a sandwich. I was cleaning up when the phone rang.

Before I could pick up the phone, I heard Daddy answer it. What little bit of the conversation I could hear sounded suspicious.

"Alice? No, I mean yeah, it's nice to hear from you. Yeah, Bella's getting worse. I don't know what to do. Yeah, I miss everyone. Hmm? No. No, Cynthia knows nothing. I'd like to keep it that way."


End file.
